


Pay Attention (aka 5 times Jaskier flirted with Geralt and 1 time he didn't, to Geralt's disappointment)

by MythMagician



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bad Flirting, Drunken Flirting, Fluff, I'm Bad At Titles, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Mentioned Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Probably ooc, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, and ok im sorry i haven't read the books yet so if anything doesn't match with them that's why k, cuz like geralt would never let jas do this in the show, i love those types of fics so yay!, it's basically all fluff, lowkey without plot, maybe a tiny bit of angst in the two last chapters or so, maybe? - Freeform, or we riot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythMagician/pseuds/MythMagician
Summary: Jaskier was a flirt.Anyone who knew him could attest to that. At the fancy parties the nobles held, he went around the room when he played his songs, smiling and winking at whoever caught his eye. He wasn't above leaning in close to his desired conquests and changing the lyrics a bit to... enhance the mood, as he put it.Usually by rhyming clock with cock or something equally as vulgar.However, Jaskier didn't limit his flirtations to nobles he wanted to bed. He pretty much flirted with anything and anyone at any time.Including Geralt.orJaskier is thirsty and Geralt is soft. That's the show, people.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 40
Kudos: 270





	1. Dance With Me!

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
> 
> I have an obsession with this fandom holy shit!
> 
> I have like two other bitcher fics I'm working on currently. This one started as just kind of a goof, mostly to get the creative juices flowing, but I'm overly ambitious and here we are!
> 
> I usually write super angsty stuff, so this was a nice change of pace! It's seriously just fluff and Jaskier trying to get into Geralt's high-waisted pants.
> 
> So yeah, without further ado, hope you enjoy!
> 
> (ok wow when i inserted the fic into here i realised the paragraphs got real bad, pls don't come for me i know i put too many)

Jaskier was a flirt.

Anyone who knew him could attest to that. At the fancy parties the nobles held, he went around the room when he played his songs, smiling and winking at whoever caught his eye. He wasn't above leaning in close to his desired conquests and changing the lyrics a bit to... enhance the mood, as he put it.   
Usually by rhyming clock with cock or something equally as vulgar.

However, Jaskier didn't limit his flirtations to nobles he wanted to bed. He pretty much flirted with anything and anyone at any time.

Including Geralt.

Now, usually it seemed like Jaskier didn't even notice he was doing it. He'd stay a little too close to him, touch him a little too much, and generally create way too many sexual innuendos involving the two of them. It was just how he interacted with people, so Geralt didn't think much of it.

This time was a little different.

They were at a dirty old tavern in a small village, well on their way to getting plastered. Geralt had just finished up a contract in a small village, and Jaskier insisted they celebrate with some good food and ale. 

The food had turned out to be mediocre and luke-warm, and the ale mostly tasted like warm piss, but it got the job done. Geralt was even starting to loosen up and relax a little, leaning back in his chair, watching his bard pick up his lute and start on his newest heroic ballad. A few other musicians immediately joined in. His heart warmed a little, seeing Jaskier prance around the room, making the other patrons sing along. Every now and then he paused his singing and took a hearty swig of ale.

Geralt sighed, following Jaskier's example and taking a sip of his drink. He felt like he deserved a little rest. 

It had been a rough couple of months, and that was saying something, considering how the life of a Witcher usually was.

Between Ciri and Yennefer and his… fight with Jaskier, his mind and body were tired. Sure, things with Ciri were fine; she was training with Yennefer at the moment, but with Jaskier it was still a little… Weird.

Apologising to a wronged friend wasn't exactly something you learned at Kaer Morhen, and Geralt had never really cared about anyone's feelings enough to feel apologetic before.

So when they'd run into each other again a month after the battle of Sodden, Geralt hadn't known what to say. He wanted to explain himself, tell Jaskier he missed him, but words had never come easy for him.

Fortunately, when the time came he hadn't needed to say anything. 

He'd spotted Jaskier two weeks ago in the streets of Oxenfurt. Geralt was on a hunt, and Jaskier later said he'd been visiting family.

He'd acted instinctively, tapping Jaskier on the shoulder.

For a moment, Jaskier seemed shocked into silence at the sight of him, and Geralt almost made a move to leave.

But then his face split up in a large grin, and he had excitedly grasped Geralt's arm and dragged him to the inn they were (coincidentally) both staying in. They spent the night catching up; that is to say, Jaskier told Geralt everything he'd been up to the last few months, and Geralt mostly stayed silent.

In accordance with his usual behaviour, Jaskier hadn't shut up since. Of course, he'd followed Geralt to his next contract, saying how brilliant it was that they were travelling together again.

Still, Geralt couldn't help feeling like something was a little off with Jaskier. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, though.

"Oy, Geralt! May I have this dance?"

Geralt's pondering was interrupted by a flushed and very drunk Jaskier suddenly appearing in front of him, pulling eagerly at his sleeve. His eyes were twinkling mischievously, hazy with alcohol.

"No", Geralt responded gruffly, shooing Jaskier's hands away.

His blunt refusal didn't deter Jaskier one moment, of course. Putting his hands on his hips, he grinned down at Geralt. He was swaying slightly.

"Come on, don't be such a limp cock! Dance with me!", he exclaimed, a little too loudly to be sober.

"I don't dance, Jaskier", Geralt responded, hiding an amused smile.

"What, because you're a big bad Witcher you can't dance? Nonsense, my dear Geralt! Come on up and give these fine people a run for their money! You know you want to!"

Geralt sighed. He really didn't. So he remained seated, giving Jaskier a pointed look. It just seemed to fuel his persistence.

"You need to have some fun, Geralt!", Jaskier insisted.

"We have very different opinions on what fun is", he deadpanned, taking a sip of his terrible ale.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and started dancing on the spot, wiggling his slender hips in a sort of side-to-side motion. It made him look stupid and dumb and wasn't at all attractive.

Jaskier grabbed both of Geralt's hands and tried to move them to the music.

"I bet you'd like it if you gave it a chance", he sing-song, leaning in closer.

Geralt glared at him.

"Why don't you try and make me", he said, hiding a smirk, knowing such a task would be impossible for the scrawny bard. 

Jaskier's eyes widened and he seemed to get even more flushed than before at Geralt's words. Strange.

"Wha- Challenge accepted, oh mighty Witcher!"

He started furiously tugging on Geralt's arms. It didn't move him even an inch.

"Fuck, these are like tree trunks!", Jaskier groaned and tried swinging one of Geralt's forearms over his shoulder by turning around and hiking it up. 

Needless to say, it was unsuccessful. It did however give Geralt a pretty good view of Jaskier's backside.

Not that Geralt particularly wanted the view. Just an observation.

Jaskier finally seemed to give up trying to drag him and instead opted to just stand and glare at Geralt.

"Giving up so soon?", Geralt asked, a hint of mocking sneaking its way into his voice. Jaskier scowled.

"No I…" He trailed off suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he was just struck by an idea. It made Geralt sigh inwardly. Ideas and Jaskier were never a good combo.

"I got it!", he exclaimed with a big grin. 

Geralt was just about to ask exactly what he'd "gotten" when-

Oof.

Jaskier threw his arms around Geralt and hopped right onto Geralt's lap.

Taking advantage of Geralt's shock and confusion, he grabbed Geralt's right hand tightly and pulled it up. At the same time he was sliding up his thighs, bringing their faces closer together.

"We can just dance like this!", he giggled, swaying back and forth, moving their hands with the beat of the music.

"Jaskier. Get off me", Geralt growled, trying to pull his hand back.

"Come on Geralt! Blame the ale!", Jaskier exclaimed. He brought his flushed face close to Geralt's, resting their foreheads against each other. He was definitely more drunk than Geralt had thought.

Jaskier closed his eyes and continued swaying to the music, gently humming along.

"Jaskier. Get off."

"Mhmm… No… You're cozy", Jaskier replied, head lolling forward to rest on Geralt's shoulder. 

"Jaskier." 

"Mm…"

"I'm standing up now", Geralt growled, and made to do just that.

"No…!" Jaskier's arms and legs tightened around Geralt, and he snuggled determinedly against his chest. He could just stand up anyway and let Jaskier fall to the floor, but something stopped him.

Jaskier’s expression was open and content. Geralt hadn’t seen him look like that since before the dragon hunt.

He realised then what was off about Jaskier. He was being careful around Geralt. Yes, he still talked constantly, yes, he would still bug him, but not like he used to. Tonight was the first time since their reunion he actually tried to coerce Geralt into something. It was like he was scared of making him angry.

The thought made his stomach twist.

A small noise of contentment brought him out of his reverie. It seemed he’d been lost in thought a little too long, because Jaskier seemed to be struggling to remain awake.

"Cozy...", he slurred quietly, and then promptly let out a snore.

Geralt sighed. The damned bard was impossible when drunk. 

He carefully dislodged Jaskier's hands from his neck, and swiftly lifted him off his lap, putting him down on a nearby chair. Gently, he brought Jaskier's head to rest on his shoulder.

He should wake him, help him to their shared room upstairs. They had to ride out early tomorrow and Geralt didn’t even want to think about how grumpy Jaskier would be if on top of the hangover he didn’t get to sleep in a proper bed tonight.

Instead of doing the responsible thing however, he slowly brought his hand to Jaskier's cheek, resting it there.

Jaskier nuzzled his palm in his sleep. He looked so peaceful, eyelids fluttering slightly, face still flushed. He looked so young, Geralt thought. His hands travelled up to tangle in Jaskier’s hair, twirling the brown locks between his fingers. 

“Geralt…”, Jaskier mumbled in his sleep.

Geralt couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.

It couldn’t hurt to wait a little longer before waking him.


	2. umm yeah this isn't actually a chapter

had an announcement here before, wanted to keep the sweet comments:) keep going to the next real chapter!


	3. The prettiest in all the land; Geralt of Rivia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyy the second chapter is finally here! thanks to all of you who have been so supportive and nice:)
> 
> I'm really trying not to get caught up in needing things yo be perfect and just writing for fun, and i think this silly story is helping. constructive critisism is always nice, but please don't be mean:") i know this isn't wonderful writing, and i could probably do it better, but like i said, I'm trying to overcome my perfectionism:)
> 
> hope ya'll like this!

"Come on Geralt, I won't bite! You know you want to!", Jaskier all but whined.

"I really don't", Geralt answered, shrugging off Jaskier's hands.

"But I'm really good at it, I promise!"

"No."

"It's so long and pretty, it deserves some attention! And it's perfect now that it's already wet!"

"It's fine the way it is."

"It would get it out of your face. Seriously, Geralt, that must be annoying. Aren't you going to get it cut soon?"

"I like my hair long", Geralt grunted, sinking further into the bath. 

"Then you should treat it better!", Jaskier exclaimed, pointedly holding up a clump of Geralt's tangled, grimey hair. "Come on, Geralt! Let me braid it!"

“Go to sleep, Jaskier."

"I can't in good conscience fall asleep with you looking like a dirty sewer rat!"

Geralt growled, fixing Jaskier with a glare.

"Fine, fine, you brute, I'll shut up about it", Jaskier muttered and abandoned his quest to "make Geralt look somewhat presentable" in favour of plucking at his lute.

A sigh of relief escaped Geralt. He couldn't even handle the thought of Jaskier's hands in his hair, let alone it actually happening.

They'd been travelling continuously for a month now, and Geralt was finding it harder and harder to ignore the soft, mushy feelings Jaskier gave him. 

It definitely didn't help that Jaskier kept doing things like this. 

Shaking his head, he dried off and quietly went to bed. He drifted off with a strange ache in his chest, listening to Jaskier's hushed singing.

The next morning they left early, moving on to the next town and the next job. It took three days to get somewhere that needed a Witcher's help, and during that time, Jaskier talked incessantly, as per usual.

Two days in, you'd think he'd run out of dumb topics, but Jaskier never ceased to surprise.

"Hey, Geralt? Can I ask you something?", he asked, strutting along next to Geralt, who was riding on Roach. Despite all Jaskier's complaints about his feet hurting, Geralt refused to let him ride. He was afraid he'd spontaneously combust with Jaskier's warm frame that close.

"You just asked something", Geralt replied, decidedly not thinking about what Jaskier would feel like pressed against his front.

"Why is your hair white?", Jaskier continued, ignoring Geralt's snark completely. "Is it a witcher thing or just a... you thing?"

Geralt huffed.

"Jaskier. This may surprise you, but people get gray hair when they age."

It most definitely was a 'Witcher thing', but Jaskier didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, but you're not that old", Jaskier said with a teasing grin. His smile fell when Geralt just raised a silent eyebrow at him.

"Geralt."

"Hmm."

"How old are you?"

Geralt stopped to think.

"Around eighty, I think."

"You think?!"

Jaskier had stopped abruptly, jaw slack open and eyes staring at Geralt in disbelief. It made Geralt allow himself a small smile.

"Keeping count is too much trouble", he said, smiling even wider when Jaskier gasped in shock.

"But… How the…? You look like, forty, at most!"

"Hmm."

"How did I not know about this…? So wait, wait… What?!"

"Witcher's are immortal, Jaskier. I thought you knew that."

Jaskier's mouth was moving, but only strange squaks escaped his lips. Geralt waited patiently, still smiling slightly. Finally, Jaskier found his voice again.

"I know! I know you can't die of old age, I just thought…! I mean, it's just so unfair! You have no right to be that old and still look like… Well, look like you do!"

His words made Geralt's stomach swoop pleasantly. He smirked down at Jaskier, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, come off it, you cocky shit. We both already know you're good-looking."

"Hmm."

Geralt returned his eyes to the road before them, still with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Still… I mean, eighty? Really? How does it even work? I mean, I know you take some potion or something, but how did you get… is recruited a good word? You must've had a family, right? So how did that work, did they like, visit on weekends or some-"

"Enough! For fuck's sake, Jaskier, do you always have to stick your nose in everything?"

"I didn't-"

"Could we just for once travel in silence? Or do you feel the need to continue asking pointless questions?"

“No, but-"

"Good."

Not waiting for any potential response, Geralt kicked his heels into Roach's sides, urging her forward. He rode ahead, putting enough distance between him and Jaskier to guarantee no further words from him would be possible.

He could hear Jaskier hurrying to keep up, could smell his muddy, hurt feelings.

Why did Jaskier always have to bring up the things Geralt wanted the most to avoid? It was like a fucking hidden talent, the way he unknowingly prodded at his deepest, sorests spots. How was he supposed to get anything but angry?

They continued their journey in that way; Geralt a few meters ahead, and Jaskier trudging along behind him.

Even as nauseating guilt began to enter Geralt's thoughts, he kept his eyes forward, not once looking back at Jaskier.

\----

They arrived to a small town by night-fall. Neither had spoke a word after Geralt's outburst, and the silence had been awkward to say the least. So for once, Geralt welcomed the mindless chatter and the familiar noises of a town. It felt grounding, somehow. 

The town’s only inn was called “The Boar’s Tusk”, and despite the terrible name, it was quite a decent place. Decent, by Geralt’s standards, meant no mold, relatively dry and warm, and non-poisonous food and drink. Maybe a bath, if you’re lucky. 

On top of that, no one bothered them at all. Usually, there’d be at least a few glares and hateful words thrown his way, but tonight? Nothing. In fact, people seemed… Grateful. The innkeeper even called him 'sir' and 'master', which Geralt found quite embarrassing.

When Geralt asked for two rooms, the innkeeper swallowed thickly and smiled nervously. 

"I'm so sorry, master Witcher, sir, but we only have one room available."

Geralt sighed. He really didn't feel like sharing with Jaskier tonight, considering Geralt's harsh words from earlier. Feeling guilty didn't suit him all.

The innkeeper seemed to take his silence as some sort of threat, for his hands were trembling, and he looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.

"Relax. We'll take it."

Jaskier chose this moment to cut in, having stood beside Geralt quietly for the entire conversation so far.

"Does the room have a bath?", he asked, and after looking Geralt up and down a few times, he added: "Because this guy really, really needs it."

The innkeeper looked horrified, as if Geralt was about to rip Jaskier to shreds. It made Geralt smile inwardly. 

"Y-Yes, sir, I'll have my daughter draw you one whenever you'd please!"

"Good! Could we get some food, too? Whatever tastes OK. And ale. Lots of ale."

"Yes, sir!"

\---

Supper had been an awkward affair, and Geralt was dreading having to spend a night in the same room as Jaskier.

Before the fiasko after the dragon hunt, Jaskier would brush off any and all insults and harsh words directed at him from Geralt. Sure, he made a big fuss, but in the end, he didn't seem to take anything to heart.

But after what Geralt said to him then, Jaskier seemed a lot more… Vulnerable. He didn't retort, didn't fight back, he just got quiet. Anyone who knew Jaskier knew to be worried when he got quiet.

And the thing was, Geralt could handle the dramatic Jaskier who made everything a bigger deal than it was, who pestered him to apologise for hours on end.

What he couldn't handle was Jaskier actually upset. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to act, so he ended up doing nothing. 

Which brought them to where they were right now. Jaskier, on one of the small, wobbly beds, mindlessly plucking haphazardly at his lute, and Geralt in the provided bathtub, his gaze on the ceiling as he tried to come up with a way to break the silence. 

It was strange, being the one actually wanting to starting a conversation. What did they normally talk about? Jaskier's latest conquests in bed? The new song he'd been working on? Monster-killing? How said monster-killing made Geralt look and smell like a pile of diseased rotting fish?

Wait a second. That could work. 

He cleared his throat.

"Jaskier."

Jaskier startled out of his reverie, resembling a nervous hare with the way his head turned.

"Sorry?"

"Could you…" Geralt cleared his throat awkwardly. This was a terrible, embarrassing idea. 

Jaskier was looking at him expectantly.

"Yes, Geralt?" He seemed amused at Geralt's inability to speak, and it gave Geralt the will to keep talking.

"There's still guts in my hair. Could you… Hm. Could you wash it for me?"

He doubted he'd ever been more uncomfortable in his entire life, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with Jaskier. His face held a bemused expression for a few moments, before it split open in a big grin.

"Why, Geralt, are you asking for my help?", he said smugly.

"No."

"Really? Because it sounded like you were. The big, bad white wolf, asking a measly bard to help wash himself. Oh, boy. The songs I could write about this, you have no idea!"

"I wasn't asking for your help!", Geralt growled.

He made to get out of the tub, intently looking at his feet, feeling the embarrassment churn in his throat. He was never going to try being nice to Jaskier again, he decided. 

"No, no, no, don't you dare get out!", Jaskier exclaimed. Before Geralt knew it, he was jumping up and hurrying over to the tub.

"Sit back down, you big oaf! You asked for help, you're gonna get it!" He placed his hands firmly on Geralt's shoulders and pushed him back down in the tub.

"I didn't ask for-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're big and strong and don't need help with anything, I get it. Now, quit your whining and let me get to work. I'm gonna make you the prettiest witcher in all the land!"

Geralt sighed and pinched his brow. Why the hell had he thought this would be a good idea?

"Now, wait just a second, I need to get my supplies."

Jaskier left his side to start rummaging through his pack, leaving Geralt's shoulders tingling from where Jaskier's hands had been.

A few moments later he excitedly exclaimed: "Got it!", and returned to Geralt's side with a few mysterious glass vials. Geralt could already smell the perfume coming from them. He'd also dug out a white, fancy-looking comb and an excessive amount of hair ties.

"OK, sit up straight", Jaskier ordered, tugging on Geralt's shoulders again. Geralt tried not to think about the warmth coming from his fingers, or the general closeness of the two of them. He did as he was asked, shifting his position.

Jaskier wasted no time and immediately got to work, humming mindlessly as he did. He dumped an entire vial of that mystery-liquid on Geralt's hair, rubbing it in and combing it through with his fingers. The feeling of gentle hands in his hair was strange and foreign, and Geralt just barely managed to suppress the urge to just push Jaskier away and tell him to forget the whole thing.

It felt weird. Jaskier was being gentle. With Geralt. The entire thing seemed bizarre. It was making him squirm, simultaneously wanting it to stop and and wanting more of it. It didn't help that the only sound was Jaskier's mindless humming, and his fingers lathering Geralt's hair.

Even though Geralt had just asked for a wash, Jaskier seemed to be going all out, carefully untangling and conditioning his hair as well as cleaning it. His hands were firm but gentle at the same time, and Geralt's whole head felt lighter and lighter the longer Jaskier worked, as if it had been weighed down by all the monster guts.

When his fingers reached his scalp, Geralt actually let out a small, pleased sigh, to his absolute horror.

"Feeling good? Not that I'm surprised. I'm told I have magic hands."

Geralt could practically feel the prideful smirk on Jaskier's face. He just grunted non-committally, itching to argue, but not wanting to risk making Jaskier upset.

Jaskier had definitely taken his lack of response as encouragement, because he started massaging Geralt's scalp in earnest. Again, it felt… Strange. Intimate, maybe. 

Gods, he was acting like a teenager. His hair was just getting washed! Why was he getting so worked up?

He told himself he was only letting it happen to please Jaskier.

"What did I tell you? Didn't I say it'd be nice? I swear, you witchers are stupidly stubborn. Not that I've ever met any other witchers, so it might just be a you-thing. Although, one time-"

Geralt tuned him out after that. Being relieved his companion had finally started talking again didn't mean he wanted to listen to every word.

When he started braiding, Geralt wanted to protest, remind Jaskier that he'd only asked him to help wash his hair, not braid it. 

But the words died on his tongue. Jaskier would probably get upset with him. He had to let him continue for a while, right? Even though it felt terrible. He could always just take out the braids immediately when Jaskier was done.

His hair was being gently pulled back, section by section. It seemed like Jaskier was doing something more advanced than the basic french braid Geralt sometimes did. Sluggishly, Geralt hoped Jaskier wouldn't give him some outrageous hairstyle he called "fashionable".

Suddenly, the tugging on his hair stopped.

"All done!"

"Hm."

"Go on, look in the mirror! In my humble opinion, I think I really outdid myself."

Geralt huffed in amusement, and made to get out of the tub. He felt embarrassed and open in a strange, exhilarating way. Even more than that, he was incredibly relieved that Jaskier had seemingly returned to his usual, cheery self, without any of the awkward, suffocating silence.

"Hurry up, Geralt! I want you to see my craftmanship!", Jaskier exclaimed, tugging on Geralt's arm like a needy child.

Sighing, Geralt quickly towelled off, and let Jaskier push him toward the small, oval mirror hanging beside the door. Geralt let out a small 'hm' in appreciation as he inspected Jaskier's handiwork. 

His hair was in three, fancy-looking baked braids, coming together at the back of his head to form a tail. The rest of it looked soft and shiny, billowing over his shoulders.

"I look like a woman", Geralt remarked, giving Jaskier a dirty look. The man in question rolled his eyes and stared back disbelievingly.

"Geralt, you're a six feet tall, chiseled-jaw, muscle-hunk of a man. If anyone's claimed to be a woman looking like you do, there's something strange going on."

"Hm."

"In fact, one time, I was in a tavern, and this charming lady walks up and starts talking to me. She was quite charming! Voice as deep as yours, and had a bit of stubble, I think? Quite handsome to look at, I must say. Anyway, the things she could do in bed, let me tell you! She did this thing thing with her-"

"Jaskier!"

"Yes?"

"I don't need every detail of your sex life."

"Yeesh, so testy! And I was getting to the good part, too. Oh, well."

"The point", he continued, but Geralt interrupted him with a smirk.  
"There's a point to this story?", he deadpanned.  
"The point is", Jaskier said, ignoring Geralt, "that women are usually better-looking than us, so looking like one should be a compliment, Geralt."

Geralt stopped to consider for a few seconds.  
"I guess you're right", he said, giving himself another lookover in the mirror.

"I'm always right", Jaskier responded, shit-eating grin in place. "So, do you like them?"

"Hm", Geralt said, shrugging. Jaskier seemed to accept that that was the best review he was going to get, and left Geralt to saunter over to his bed, where he flopped down with a thud.

"Well, I think you look pretty. Even more than usual, I mean."

"I'm not pretty, Jaskier."

"Hmm, you know, I'm pretty sure you are, actually. Prettiest witcher of them all!"

Despite knowing Jaskier was joking, Geralt's face was flushing slightly, and he absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on his towel.

"Now, come on, get to bed, princess", Jaskier smirked, resting on his elbows and giving Geralt a gleeful look.

"Fuck off, bard."

"Aw, love you too, Geralt."

Geralt huffed in defeat, getting into bed without even putting on a shirt. He tried to ignore the warmth spreading in his chest at Jaskier's words. 

Jaskier fell asleep quickly, and his soft, calm breaths lulled Geralt to sleep soon as well. As he drifted off, warm and tired, he kept repeating Jaskier's words in his head.

"Love you too, Geralt."

Singing, he rubbed his eyes and tried to force himself to clear his thoughts. But even as he fell asleep, Jaskier's voice continued to play over and over in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i love recieving comments, they always totally make my day:) kudos are real nice, too, so if you liked it but a kudo on it:)
> 
> hopefully the next chapter won't take as long...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my dumb thing! Hope you liked it!
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you thought about it, but remember my heart is very fragile so don't be mean:( (jk roast me all you want)
> 
> Also, English isn't my first language, so if anyone spots any mistakes please tell me! Even if it's just a comma in the wrong place.
> 
> More fics on the way! BYE!


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